


Counting my blessings. Awaiting a miracle.

by Blaiddyd_Queso



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Eventual Romance, F/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Self-Hatred, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28889124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaiddyd_Queso/pseuds/Blaiddyd_Queso
Summary: “There are certain things that I must accomplish, even if that means risking my life. I may not even have a future to promise to someone.” With a hand over his heart, he apologizes and explains the reason for his actions— deep down, he feels this explanation is more a reminder to himself. Her expression goes neutral anew, accompanied by the ever-silencing patience that she offers.  It’s hard not to find her charming. A small chuckle escapes him, “We should head back soon.It’s rude of me to keep you all to myself.”He steps closer and courteously offers an arm, “Shall we, professor?”Her expression proves to be difficult to read. Her eyes avert from his for a split second, “My existence as a mercenary made discerning people at first glance a skill of survival.” Byleth says monotone before staring at him, defiant. “You’re lying, Dimitri.”--The eve of the ball leaves Dimitri and Byleth with pent up emotions. During a private training drill, everything flows out between them. There are truths that cannot be hidden forever.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 18
Kudos: 96





	1. Wishful

**Author's Note:**

> The eve of the ball is on the 16th of the 12th moon, hence the underage tag. 
> 
> Chapter one: NSFW +18. Masturbation.  
> Chapter two: NSFW. Implied sexual themes.  
> Chapter three: NSFW. Implied sexual themes.

Dimitri doesn’t consider himself a believer when it comes to the goddess. She’s unreachable. Even if he believed, his hands are stained, and the path before him can only be meant to serve the fallen. He’s too wretched and undeserving, even if the goddess were to appear miraculously on the eve of the ball.

Why would Sothis appear just to bless two people with endless love and merriment? It’s truly a silly notion and legend;however, he’s even more pathetic for actually standing here in the goddess tower hoping the legend is legitimate. Even with his wry faith, even with his obscure future—he dares to challenge both in exchange for a glimpse of having his professor stand with him as two lovers would in the quietest spot of this tower.

He knows that it’s a weak dream, a pathetic wish for his selfish existence. Someone as him deserves no trust and compassion, less love. Yet here he stands, a few centimeters from Byleth; staring at the stars that sadly seem more beautiful on tonight’s sky. They twinkle, just as her eyes do now that he has made the inappropriate statement that maybe they should be together forever.

Sharing the wish of nobody being taken unjustly from them should have been enough. Dimitri refused to comply with reason, and now he is ready to accept her rejection. 

He pushes aside the blush on her face, the small curve on her lips. She is beautiful, but moonlight transforms her into a heavenly sight. Ephemeral. She’s searching with those bottomless eyes, she’s studying him with every passing second, each frame of time adding a more lucid shine to her gaze.

Is she...considering it?

Yes!

No.

No...

He takes his statement back. He must, or their fates will intertwine and she shall be sullied. The stars dim after that; he believes. Just as her eyes when he handles his confession, his plight for her love, as a banter— masking it, just as his desire for revenge. He’s caught off guard by the sudden anger that her voice and gaze host when she chides him. His professor, who’s usually patient and attentive, now appears...wounded.

He has wounded her. His thoughtless desire has guided him to harm someone he respects and admires deeply, someone that he…

“There are certain things that I must accomplish, even if that means risking my life. I may not even have a future to promise to someone.” With a hand over his heart, he apologizes and explains the reason for his actions— deep down, he feels this explanation is more a reminder to himself. Her expression goes neutral anew, accompanied by the ever-silencing patience that she offers. It’s hard not to find her charming. A small chuckle escapes him, “We should head back soon.It’s rude of me to keep you all to myself.”

He steps closer and courteously offers an arm, “Shall we, professor?”

Her expression proves to be difficult to read. Her eyes avert from his for a split second, “My existence as a mercenary made discerning people at first glance a skill of survival.” Byleth says monotone before staring at him, defiant. “You’re lying, Dimitri.” 

His mask shatters slowly, starting by how weakly his lips twitch by the corners until they lie flat. The rush of blood heats up his face and ears. “Professor…” He finds strength to speak, “I assure you. I would never mean to deceive you, not on purpose. ”

Her eyebrows furrow, creating deep lines. She’s even more unsatisfied with that answer, it seems, “I never expected for you to use people’s feelings and expectations in favor of a lark.” A hand rests over her chest, “Sylvain, perhaps. If you were him…” She sighs, “I wouldn’t be doing this. Forgive me.”

Dimitri stares in confusion, and only the hot strike on his left cheek finally wakes him into a shocked expression. Out of instinct he goes to touch where Byleth’s hand had just been, still trying to grasp what has just happened. The physical pain is fleeting, while the shame in his core stays.

“Good evening, Dimitri.” She says with a calmer composure, “See you in tomorrow’s class. Do not forget your exercise log if you’re still interested in a private seminar during the weekend.” It’s all she says before departing, becoming one with the darkness that soon becomes his haven as he’s too astonished for any movement. For a few minutes all he can do is breathe as he rests against a wall, recalling her words and face in a loop.

There was a special intensity in her eyes as she bid her farewell. Stronger than that of her slap. What could she mean by accepting Sylvain’s banters and not his? Do they share a closer connection that he has failed to see before?

Or is it the fact that he pulled on her heartstrings of a future with _**him**_ that caused this reaction?

Both options were dangerous, they equally caused his stomach to boil even if one was fueled by jealousy while a special glow of affection and desire nurtured the other. He bites his lip, trying for the buzzing in his head to cease;unable to taste iron as he pierces his flesh finally with a canine. 

All he dwells in now is in the possibility that his professor wanted him as much as he wanted her. Where to go with this information? What to do now?

The voices only whispered **‘** _ **ignore and pierce forward’**. _His rushing heart and sweaty palms challenge that chant when he finally leaves the goddess tower with lighter feet; ignoring the song of fiddles and laughter throughout the halls that do not host her presence anymore. It’s then when reality shocks him that his professor had only rejected his abuse of authority and distasteful lark.

A reasonable voice tells him not to hope, but a louder one that he recognizes as his begs for him to press in further; pierce through the last walls that lie between them and ignore all wise thoughts. 

His entire body is now covered in goosebumps as he crashes into the privacy of his dormitory and room, where he can lie flat against his bed and stare at the ceiling that hosts nothing. During other nights he would have met with the faces of those who he continues to fail, but tonight there’s nothing but her intense eyes and her hot strike.

Little rushes of self-pity and hatred push him at the edge, but the flame of her disappointment keeps him within a frame where he still has control. Within a dream that keeps him sleepless for kinder reasons. 

Unavoidably, thinking about her during most of the night, awakes a darker side of his feelings. A wretched desire he can’t ignore when in privacy and silence. “I want you, professor. I want you...I’m sorry, please…” Between mumbles of forgiveness and pleasure, he whispers her name as his hand slides down his abdomen and below his pants, finally attending his erection that was notorious by the stretch of fabric from his evening attire.

“Professor Byleth,” He feels daring, moaning her name as he finally grasps his half-hard cock. He needs to mind the volume of his voice, but the rush of adrenaline and the tight pressure in his balls clouded his judgment with simple pleasure. “I’d do anything for you. Remove any filth that dares block your path...hng!” The tugs he gives to himself are slow-paced until he grunts and takes his full length out of his pants.

His cock springs out into the cool air. He wraps his hand around almost immediately, already having a hard time to keep his breathing even. His thumb swirling over the top and smearing pre-cum around fuels his shame, but the sting of Byleth’s hand on his cheek reminds him of her strong-willed eyes. “You’re...the one I…” The realization that he was touching himself using Byleth’s anger for his pleasure almost froze him on the spot, but a twisted sense of pride made him continue. "hah...You always smell so good, professor..." 

He no longer thinks of just her eyes, now he’s captivated by the memory of her beautiful body caught in sweat during a training drill; her soft hands as she fixes his battle position; her calm laugh when they share tea together. “Byleth…just mine, you’re mine. Byleth! No one should...no one should have the honor of tasting you...” He moans longingly for her, leaving her title behind— he was already acting as a beast for using her image and emotions for private gratification. Why keep up with the facade of titles? "Not even me, never me..."

He made her experience something, react towards something he did. It’s disgustingly addictive, what that makes him feel. His mind is now clouded by fantasies of how his hands could massage the strong build of her legs, appreciate the soft curve of her hips and waist; admire and drown in the sensation of her breasts being against his face. "I can't, but I wish I could, Byleth..." He clenches his teeth; savoring the fantasy of him tearing away those shorts and stockings, not missing a beat before his mouth meets the hidden warmth between her legs. Quivering, he lets out a whimper just at the thought of kissing and licking between her folds, being praised with chants of his name.

Sweat traverses down his forehead, gasping softly as he feels close to a disgusting orgasm. He imagines her calm expression as his lips slowly glide over her stomach and between her breasts, finding a comfortable spot in the crook of her neck where he finally sinks his canines in. Marking her, claiming her. Would she enable him or push him away? He can't imagine that far, but he’s sent over the edge at the thought of her saying ‘I love you’ with a smile, face flushed and eyelids heavy by how enraptured and spent she was with him. 

A fire is nestling in the pit of his stomach as his hand doesn’t cease; he brings a hand over his mouth and bites hard unto it, masking his pitiful cry out as his cock spasms and thick streams of cum land over his abdomen. Warm and wet, he slowly lets go of his abused flesh and gives up with a long sigh.

He stares at the ceiling until there are no stars. A small headache settles in. As usual. Descending from his heaven, he finally coils until he turns on his side and stares at the wall. He’s a disgusting monster, insatiable. His fate is to meet demise after fulfilling his lost loved ones' revenge.

But just for tonight, on the eve of the ball, he dreams of his duty being different. 

Tomorrow, things will go unchanged. He prays his gaze doesn’t grow weary and weak against hers.


	2. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sothis being a gremlin. Byleth's POV after the eve of the ball.

Sothis observes below her as a gargoyle does from their highest peak. Floating effortlessly besides Byleth’s desk, she stares at the woman who lies against a few scrolls and unsent letters. Moonlight barely entered the bedroom, but it was enough for an uncorked bottle of ale and a flower vase to glint curiously.

Byleth had been quiet ever since they left the dancing halls after finding Rhea singing an oddly familiar song. As much as Sothis hates it, she fell asleep, lulled by the tune, and woke up to this scenario in front of her: a restless Byleth that just stares at her flower vase with a few strands of Morning Glory. 

The healthy blue buds were gone. Now, only a wrinkled and sad plant took its place.

“It appeared so healthy yesterday morning…” Sothis pouts. “Have you tried using a bit of magic on them?”

“There’s no point.” Byleth answers distantly, “This is the fate of this flower—bloom for one morning and die swiftly at night.”

“Ah,” Sothis smiles a bit, “Quite a fleeting life. Is this why humans represent affection with this flower?”

“Hm,” Byleth barely blinks, grabbing her ale bottle again. She takes quiet sips, “I didn’t know this flower had any symbolism...I just liked the shade of yellow and blue it had.”

The flower’s bud was yellow in the center while the rest of the petals were a soft baby blue. Sothis stretches over the air, lying flat and using both hands to support her face. “Wondrous little flower...worth all the care and time to see it bloom. Are they not deserving of extra time if you have the means to give it?” Her eyes discern Byleth further. “They remind me of a certain someone.”

Byleth flinches and puts the bottle away—following the same way with the endless parchment that served her as a pillow. She pushes away the memory of Dimitri’s hair under sunlight and definitely ignores the image of his earnest eyes as he teaches an orphan an alternative way to block a sword jab. 

Of course, denying herself only shifts into place the memory of his shocked expression after her hand met his face. His cheeks were deep red, lips softly parted away where a canine was visible enough. His pupils were small, yet his stare never ceased being intense. “Do they?”

“Deflecting won’t work with me, little one.” Sothis chides kindly, “I’m sorry things didn’t go well in the goddess tower. Expectations are rarely ever met…” She chuckles, “Good thing you actually uncurled your fist before you parted ways with that slap…”

Byleth feels heat rushing to her face, “I thought you would give me privacy!”

“That I did! But you smacked the prince so hard I think the sound recoiled me into wakefulness!”

Yes, indeed, she had harmed the prince of The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. She will be impressed if tomorrow her right hand is still attached to the rest of her body. Her face and arms go back being against the desk, “ I didn’t mean to harm him! I just…”

The room goes quiet. In this peace, Byleth acknowledges she wouldn’t exactly mind losing her hand. She’s yet to understand why exactly is she calm about losing a limb, and why did it feel _good._ Her eyes no longer waver against the sight of the flower vase or the small letter and lion badge that rest beside it. The curve of his handwriting only digs deeper into the pit of her stomach. “What should I do?... Apologize tomorrow, maybe...”

Sothis floats closer to her, resting a part of her weightless existence over her head. “Oh, you boulder…” The goddess didn’t know how to tell her that what she was experiencing right now was heartache. “Give it time. Fate has wondrous ways of connecting people.”

Byleth sinks her shoulders. The least she needed was an enabler! “Stop it!” 

“Another slap could also work out.” Sothis hums, “Oh, young people are so clueless with love.” In her heart, she knew they were a set that was too stubborn to acknowledge so. 

“Go back to sleep.” Byleth mumbles with gritted teeth.

“As if I need your permission. So rude,” She claps her hands with disdain, “Consider your own words. You have a class to guide tomorrow.”

“That is always present.” Byleth turns her head upward, slowly giving into her small pout. “Thanks...for listening.”

Sothis caresses her head, or tries to. Byleth appreciates it either way, “Don’t stay up too late. I’m always here if you need me.”

Byleth nods and sees Sothis disappear with the moon’s glow. While she now had the privacy that her mind needed, Jeralt’s presence now stumbled into her head space. It was a day with drizzle, she remembers. They went fishing together despite the weather since nature doesn’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not. She can’t exactly recall why her father had brought it up, but his deep voice stumbled through.

**You need a bullshit proof soul, By. Love is a sword that will gouge you right up if you don’t know how to deflect or wield it. Everything we do is for love, don’t forget that. Hey, what did I tell you about catching fish with your bare hands! These rods are not cheap!**

She hasn’t seen her father for over a month. It may be arrogant of her for assuming, but she’s pretty sure that Jeralt would laugh at knowing that her hand smacked royalty. With numb fingertips, she goes around her room, putting out all small flames near her bedside. Tiredness kept her from removing the special garments of tonight. Her boots are left alone on the floor as her back rests on the bed, calm blue eyes staring at the roof.

No, she remembers now. Jeralt had chided her for being impatient when handling a rod. Her love for cooked fish made her careless, getting her into the situation where half her body smelt like putrid pond.

“Is that why I did it?” Byleth lifts a hand and turns it around, staring at her palm. “Was I just impatient, Dimitri…” Her mouth twists, “Was I...hungry?”

Do people not slap apples when they lack the coin to purchase them? Touching keeps the need of sinking their teeth into them in check. 

“Am I hungry for you?” She visualizes the blush across his body after an arduous workout, and finds that there isn’t a spot of him that wouldn’t be appealing to sink her teeth into. Less when he’s covered in sweat.

The thought tightens something, her legs close in. She knows she could have used Divine Pulse, evade this whole event all together, but the promise they made in the tower...that was worthy of staying in this time and take accountability for her actions.

Byleth smiles at recalling his face as he creates new notes in his training log. He really has long, pretty, blond eyelashes. She's reminded of wheat whenever sunlight hits them on the right angle. 

“Are you really comparing him to food?” Sothis says loudly against her ears. “I miscalculated your interest in the prince.”

“You said you were asleep!” Byleth grunts and grabs her pillow, covering her head with it.

It was pointless. Sleep evaded her. The glint of swords on her wall were alluring enough to force her into shadow fencing until dawn finally announced the new day.

Before leaving her room, Byleth passed her fingers on the restored flowers that will continue adorning her desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to add this little POV of Byleth before diving into the main plot of this fic djkdjdsajk I'm already working on it but wanted to leave this by itself. 
> 
> Next up we have:
> 
> Dimitri witnessing Byleth acting defensive against Monica.
> 
> Sylvain teasing Dimitri! (to the surprise of no one!)
> 
> Dimitri and Byleth giving in.  
> 
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> \---  
> [My cardd](https://blaiddydqueso.carrd.co/)  
> \---  
> Apologies if tags, grammar, and notes are constantly updated, there are kind people who give me feedback on certain things so I try to fix it right away. I'm sorry for those first readers who get to see this shit show so raw, you are truly the heroes of this community💕  
> \----  
> This story explores the characters from 3H. I apologize if anyone is offended with this interpretation.  
> Dimitri and Byleth finally doing the deed to each other!


	3. Marking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choices. Consequences.

Felix stays outside the classroom, resting unimpressed against a column while using the shadow of it to his advantage. He flicks the toothpick inside his mouth, staring with bored eyes at the distance where Dimitri stood near the many trees in the front courtyard. The prince is attentive, patiently searching with a slow movement of his head.

“Waiting outside as a dog does for its master. I can’t say it’s unfitting.” Felix grumbles. However, he isn’t much different. There’s curiosity in knowing what would prompt their professor not arriving in time for class, leaving no note on her tardiness. There’s no invoice from any of the staff of Garreg Mach either; they can assume nothing is worthy of noting.

He sought relief from the endless mumbles in the classroom, and now he’s feeling annoyed by Dimitri’s patience breaking off ever so slightly whenever another set of seconds pass— his fingers fumble, his eyes cannot hide the true darkness they host, and his passive smile flinches time from time. Felix lets out a groan, annoyed by all the things he can point out without effort.

His eyes narrow at hearing a high-pitched voice, “Oh, your Highness! Good morning!” It was Monica. The girl they have found together with Flayn a few months ago. Her easy-going attitude after a year or more of captivity had everyone impressed, while a few believed this Monica was nothing like the girl they used to know; highly suspicious, but no one dared to say otherwise in fear of meeting with Seteth’s wrath or that of Baron Ochs’. 

Felix sighs with annoyance one last time before going back inside the classroom. Preferring to deal with everyone’s gossiping instead of seeing Dimitri’s mask renovating for Monica.

“Good morning, Monica. Is professor Manuela absent as well?” Dimitri had uncrossed his arms, avoiding being impolite; even if he wasn’t in any mood to deal with any Adrestian Noble at this time, not when he was about to go towards Seteth’s office. 

“Oh no, she’s very much present—if you can call it that. She’s not taking sunlight too well.” Monica dismisses with a hand, “Ah, so professor Byleth is not inside. You Blue Lions are so diligent to stay inside that classroom, waiting for her! Edelgard would have already ordered us to scatter and focus our time on something productive.”

Dimitri rests his hands behind his back, trying not to bite the inside of his cheeks. Her assuming his classmates were not already advancing on today’s material despite their mentor’s absence was almost downright insulting. There was an odd glint in her eyes as her hand stretched towards one of his arms.

“I see Professor Byleth does not exaggerate about your strength.” She adds, “You know, we would love to have you over for a few of our training drills sometime; I’m certain we could learn much from you!” Monica’s hand holds unto him, her voice never lost charisma, “I’m going towards the cafeteria to prepare a nice bergamot tea pot for Professor Manuela. Why don’t you come over so we can discuss my request, please?”

She winks before giggling, “We can ask for Professor Byleth’s whereabouts on the way.”

Dimitri would’ve denied her politely if she hadn’t added the last sentence. Her touch was uncomfortable— manipulative and fake. He felt guilty for assuming such traits with such a small conversation. “I appreciate your help.” He nods yet steps away at feeling a shift in the air’s energy; them not being the cause, but someone else making their presence.

His stomach weights less at turning around and meeting with his favorite pair of blue eyes. “Professor!” He beams, but then clears his throat at recognizing Byleth’s passive face and how his voice almost echoed.

He offers a curt bow, “Good morning. I’m glad to see that you’re unharmed. I was...we were… worried that you were feeling ill.”

Byleth stares at Dimitri briefly, offering a nod. “Issues in the library. Sorry for the delay.” The bag of scrolls under her arm could testify for that.

It takes a moment for him to react, but he offers his hands, “Please, allow me to assist you.” With a courteous nod he adds, taking the heavy bag from her. Soon feeling the typical rushes of heat around his body when she softly mouths a ‘thank you’.

“Well, that’s something less to worry about.” Monica chirps in, “Oh wow, professor, the skin under your eyes is looking rather dim there. I’m planning to get a nice pot of tea for Miss Manuela. Would you like one yourself?”

Byleth blinks once, before slightly frowning. “No. The faculty’s beverages and meals are highly restricted. Did Manuela give you a written authorization to submit to her tallies?”

Dimitri slightly turns his head towards Byleth. His eyes widen at the low sharpness that her voice carries. 

Monica flinches slightly at that, “Ooh, right...I’d forgotten about how you guys have your meals and beverages inspected frequently. Whoops! I was planning to use some of my tea samples, anyway...”

Byleth crosses her arms, “That won’t be necessary. If Manuela needs tea, I can prepare it. You can go back to your classes, Monica.”

“Oh, but professor, I assure this is no trouble—”

“Pebble your road and walk, Monica.” Her eyes held no warmth at all, “That’s an order.”

Both students straighten in their spots. Monica lifts her chin and offers a brief bow, looking at Dimitri. “Please think about the training drill. Yes? Excuse me.” Her mouth stays straight as she makes her way back into The Black Eagles classroom. 

After a few seconds, Byleth’s shoulders relax and her posture goes back to the usual aloofness. She can’t ignore Dimitri’s arched eyebrows. Or his entire presence, rather; she’s thankful that he adds nothing as they walk together towards the classroom.

“I will prepare the material before leaving momentarily. Could you assist me with ensuring they don’t deviate too much from their textbooks while I’m gone?”

“You may count on me. I assure you that everyone will stay focused.” He adds simply.

“Thank you.” She respects that. 

Dimitri feels the large doors of the classroom narrow as they step closer to them. This was fine, he tells himself. Their interactions could be taken as being relative well despite last night’s events. His body shudders just at the depravity of his actions while in private.

No, he barely could live with himself this way. He needed to speak up. For such fleeting emotions, they surely consumed him so easily when they hosted her as a crucial part. “Professor, if I may....” He stops by a column’s shadow, while she stays over a path with light. “I...won’t take much of your time, please.” 

Byleth takes a few steps closer to him, immersing herself in the shadows with him. “I’m listening, Dimitri.”

His grip grows stronger around the bag. Even if her sincere calmness was always comforting. “I...understand if your view of me has changed due to last night’s events. I can’t express enough how I regret my distasteful behaviour. Please, if there’s anything I can do to…” He hesitates when she lifts a hand, his body soon resting against the column after as she moves it towards his arm, seeking support.

“That’s enough, Dimitri. I'm the one who owes you an apology.” Her eyes look at the floor but return to meet him with a stronger will in them,he could never tire of their gleam. “I’m deeply sorry for assaulting you. I understand if you take this to court. I have no intention of running away. I hope you may forgive me.”

“Heavens, professor, no!” He doesn’t mean to sound desperate, but he can’t help it— just like he can’t avoid reaching for her hand and holding it with both of his, ignoring the bag that falls with a sad _twump_ on the ground. He was tempted to hold her entire body instead, “Do not say such things. How could you possibly think I…” He gulps, “There’s nothing to forgive. I was such a...” He stops mid-sentence. “I’m… mortified by my behaviour. I’m truly sorry.”

“Limits were met yesterday, we all have them after all.” Byleth adds briefly, staring at their hands. He had kept them close to his chest. It was comforting, “I forgive you, Dimitri. Know that we share this blame, however.” Her other hand closes their hold even tighter, “Your words hold an immense power. Never forget that.”

Her touch is incredibly warm, reflecting the value of her words. A contrast to the existence of those who have passed and mock his survival. Her presence is soothing, even in these circumstances. They stay there, basking in the silence that was broken by the whistle of the wind and the creaking of trees. 

“I’m in your debt, professor. Truly.” He says more calmly, somehow. He doesn’t know how his legs are staying strong. “I would love to share some tea after classes, if it isn’t imposing on your schedule and kindness, of course.” Weight leaves his shoulders as he smiles, easy and sincere.

“Never imposing. Trust me.” Byleth smiles too. Spring arrives at that moment for him, and then summer when she appears...rather cocky in her following words. “A warning, Dimitri. Another one of those little plays...and you may feel first hand what training under The Blade Breaker does to one’s body.”

Dimitri shakes his head. He doesn’t know if she means that a rough training regime will be put under his skin or that he would get more than a punch from her— either way, he doesn’t mind. It ‘s an honor. “Loud and clear.”

Her gaze follows their hands and his eyes a few times. He gets the message and clears his throat nervously, letting go and immediately reaching for the scrolls on the floor. He feels ashamed. Nothing new when around her. 

That shame only boils further the moment the classroom’s door creaks open and familiar faces collapse over the floor; the bottom row being Annette, Flayn and Felix. Their cry outs of pain, surprise and nervousness soon fill the whole Academy’s courtyard.

“I told you not to push!” Annette whined, pushing Felix’s face further into the stone. “You’re so greedy and evil!”

“You were the one who pushed! Get off me!” Felix spat.

“Please, cease with the screaming.” Dedue chided, even if he was part of the commotion. 

Byleth brought a hand to her mouth, while Dimitri used his entire palm to hide his red face.

None of that matters to Dimitri, however, when Byleth’s laugh also blends in with the racket. 

His heart soars, no matter how much he wished to drown it with duty. 

  
  
  


* * *

Tea time was delightful at the moment, not that he thought it could be anything else. Even if the winter wind is brisk against one’s skin, Byleth’s tea brews always made any atmosphere pleasant. He was thankful and honored that the pace of their conversation hadn’t decayed. Even if it seems arrogant, he could almost state that they were more...open. 

**You’re still pretending you don’t offer your full trust and hope? Weakling.**

**She’s misguiding you from your path. Destroy her.**

**Fake. Like everyone else. Nobody would care and love a monster.**

Dimitri pushes aside the whispers as he stares at his reflection in his cup of chamomile tea. Soothingly, he enjoys the ripples that any motion cause in it. 

**Will you really sit there pretending those disgusting night acts of yours do not exist?**

**How can she bear breathing the same air as you after what you do to her in your mind?**

Dimitri holds his cup a little tighter.

**That’s because she doesn’t know what you desire from her, boar prince.**

He inhales slowly.

**A life together. A life with you only means suffering and fire.**

“Dimitri.” Her soft voice breaks through and he remembers to exhale. His hold on the cup becomes gentler. 

“Yes?” He lifts his face.

“Do you enjoy Monica’s presence?” 

He’s intrigued and taken aback by the question, “I’m relieved that she’s safe.” He deflects naturally, “Why do you ask, if I may know?” The hard way, he has learnt that Byleth’s questions and statements are never without purpose—even if that isn’t her intention.

“Can I be candid?"

“Certainly.”

“Have you ever encountered poison ivy during camping trips?”

“Only a few times, and never on the receiving end.” He admits, surprised that he can recall Felix’s pouty face when Fraldarius maids applied treatment to his skin during a summer in 1170. 

Byleth hesitates and looks at her tea as well, “Monica reminds me of it by how she’s always on Edelgard’s good side.”

His feet sink into the floor a little more, yet he stays quiet.

“I trust you shall be careful around her.” She comments more softly.

He ignores the voices that scream manipulation,deceit and repugnance. “We do not cross paths frequently. I will keep your warning at heart, however, I assure you.”

She appears disappointed for a moment, but there’s serenity as their eyes meet, as they do regularly. “Someone who wanders into the library investigating finances from Adrestian nobles could get a target painted on their back. Not only from the Empire, but from the Knights of Seiros as well.”

Dimitri lets go of the cup fully, or else he would shatter it. Surprisingly, his mind is quiet during this time; when the walls feel as they’re closing in. He can no longer see or hear anything but her. His body felt as if one of Felix’s lightning spells had touched him. “I...do not understand.”

Byleth stands from her spot, removing the space between them until her hand falls on his shoulder. The weight of it sinks him in slightly, but her breath against his ear perks the small hairs on the back of his neck. Her body being in this minimal space sent him into a confused shock.

“Don’t pretend. Stay alert, Dimitri. There’s only so much I can do to hide your steps as your mentor.” She delivered a warning, but her assistance and tone felt like honey going down his throat. “I don’t want to lose you...be careful.”

He’s still grasping her words even when her presence is gone. His only company was now the forgotten teapot and untouched cookies, and his cup that no longer had ripples in it.

He hosted his smirk into the tea. Her voice and firm grip haunted during the nightfall, where he only found respite after his hand satiated him enough.

  
  
  


* * *

“Is this the path you wish to take?” Sothis rests on Byleth’s bedrest. Candlelights kept their skin caught with warm tones.

“I haven’t used Divine Pulse.” Byleth confirms as she rests easy against her pillow.

“Be warned, that the path of revenge never satisfies as intended. Less find atonement in it.” She crosses her arms, “ Though it’s entertaining. Is this not why you’re doing this? Getting back at that girl for touching him?”

Byleth furrows her eyebrows, “I do not trust her. It’s not deeper than that.”

“Ah-ah. You cannot lie to me, child.” She yawns with a smile, “Your stomach rumbled loudly when you saw them.”

After a groan, Byleth bites into her pillow.

She knew Sothis spoke the truth. Dimitri’s training log was open on her desk, and there was nothing but relief at seeing that his schedule had not changed in the slightest; except, for that small note that he would be requesting a private swordplay seminar from her on Saturday 21st. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sylvain is mystified by the sight of a love struck Dimitri. 

The Blue Lions had organized a small tea party for their house leader in honor of his birthday; and he can state with pride that it was a success by how Dimitri beams with silent happiness. 

At the moment, despite that Felix is not a fan of sweets, he was attempting to poke at Byleth’s cake—failing miserably as her fork was quick to deflect his own. It was a petty challenge that he declared, and thankfully Byleth had accepted. Her face stayed neutral as she kept eating her pastry with an extra utensil that may or may not have been provided by the prince himself.

With an easy-going posture, Sylvain just rests on the table while his hand holds up his face. He wanted to be entertained by Felix’s never ending thirst for duels, but Dimitri’s puppy love expression _was just too much._ When he thinks there can’t be more, he notices how often the prince passes his fingers on the strands of Morning Glory and a new pair of riding gloves that the professor had gifted him. 

Byleth finishes her cake and stabs Felix’s hand softly with her fork. While Felix cries out and retrieves his hand, the rest of the Blue Lions cheer. 

“You’re cheating, coward!” Felix accused, “How can you use a fork like that?”

“Felix! Show some dignity in your loss!” Ingrid intervenes, “This is our professor.”

“Want to try again?” Byleth twirls her fork. “If you win, I’ll give you my silver sword that has a scabbard with a dual rain guard.”

“No, professor!” Ingrid begs. 

“If I lose?” Felix smiles. 

“You’ll give me your arched dagger.” Byleth puts simply.

“Let’s go.” Felix leans more towards the table. 

“Another slice! Another slice!” Annette and Ashe cheer, Mercedes is already holding the knife while Dedue moves forward another clean plate. Flayn pushes the cake closer to Byleth.

“The rest of the cake instead!” Flayn beams.

“Do not offer His Highness’s cake.” Dedue chides. 

“It’s all well.” Dimitri assures immediately. Sylvain hums.

“Not that it matters.We all know the professor here won’t actually accept these new conditions.” Felix says.

Byleth stands, everyone stares at her curiously until she takes off her coat and comes back to her chair. “You are in classroom duties for the rest of the month if you lose.”

The whole table cheers eagerly, with its exceptions. Sylvain is still keeping a close eye on Dimitri, though Byleth eating almost an entire cake without a struggle while Felix fails in crossing her defense, could be so distracting. 

“So…” Sylvain takes advantage of this mess to catch Dimitri’s attention, “Will I need to cork my ears tonight?”

Dimitri stares with wary eyes, having no choice but to ignore Byleth’s masterful approach of devouring a cake. He’s full on irritated, “What is it, Sylvain? You know I despise riddles.”

“It’s no riddle,Your Highness. It’s just a yes-no question.” He stares with know-it-all eyes, his smirk fits one who is compared to a sly fox. “These past days you just haven’t been giving your all during afternoon drills, but you also have been training hard with your hand at night...I can’t imagine what your poor heart will experience after today.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Dimitri’s entire face came to life, though for the wrong reasons. 

“When will you beg the professor to mother your young,hm?” Sylvain winks. “Assuming you haven’t done so already.”

Byleth had company in the infirmary that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing left but for Dimitri and Byleth to give in.  
> 
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> \---  
> [My cardd](https://blaiddydqueso.carrd.co/)  
> \---  
> Apologies if tags, grammar, and notes are constantly updated, there are kind people who give me feedback on certain things so I try to fix it right away. I'm sorry for those first readers who get to see this shit show so raw, you are truly the heroes of this community💕  
> \----  
> This story explores the characters from 3H. I apologize if anyone is offended with this interpretation.  
> Dimitri and Byleth finally doing the deed to each other!


End file.
